The Oxen - A Christmas Story
by Vol lady
Summary: It's the Barkleys' first Christmas after Tom's death. While Audra is hoping for a big miracle, small ones happen.


The Oxen

 _Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock._

 _Now, they are all on their knees….._

\- Thomas Hardy

"Is it really true, Mother?"

Now 13 years old, Audra was beginning to question everything, and Victoria was not surprised. She had lost her father this past year, and it had shaken her to the core. Now came her first Christmas without him, and Audra no longer believed what she used to believe. The world had turned too real for her. For everyone.

Audra was sitting on the sofa, reading a picture book about Christmas traditions. It was late on Christmas Eve, much later than she usually let the children stay up, but it wasn't midnight yet. Victoria was putting the last of the garland on the mantle, Nick helping her. They were struggling to affix it to make sure it stayed well out of range of the fire. Victoria was struggling with everything this year, especially getting any kind of Christmas spirit. She was forcing herself to play the part, for her children's sake.

Jarrod and Nick were well old enough that she didn't need to pretend around them, but Audra and Eugene were 13 and 12 and right on the edge of believing and not believing in Christmas miracles. What made things most difficult was that Victoria knew – and Jarrod and Nick knew, too – that there was one miracle Audra was praying for, but somehow deep down she knew she wasn't going to get. So she was questioning everything. Now she was questioning the old story that at midnight on Christmas Eve, the oxen in the farmyard would kneel, to worship the birth of Jesus.

But Victoria didn't really hear Audra's question. She and Nick finally got the garland the way they wanted it, and Victoria backed away from the fireplace for a better look at it. "Is what really true, darling?" she asked.

"That the oxen kneel at midnight on Christmas Eve?" Audra asked.

"Oh," Victoria said. "I don't really know. I've never had oxen around on Christmas Eve."

Behind the desk, working as usual, Jarrod said, without looking up from his book, "That's an old English tale, Audra. It doesn't translate well over here in the colonies."

"We're not colonies anymore," Audra said, very seriously. She didn't get the way Jarrod was using the expression.

Everyone smiled. Jarrod looked up from his book. "That's just another English expression, Audra. The English still like to call us 'the colonies.'"

"The English don't make a lot of sense, do they?" Audra said.

Nick came over to the sofa and sat down beside her. He looked at her book and saw the drawing of oxen on their knees. "It would be nice to think the oxen did kneel on Christmas Eve, wouldn't it?"

"Only if it's real," Audra said.

Victoria suddenly noticed something. "Where's Eugene?"

Everybody looked around. "He was here a minute ago," Jarrod said.

But everyone had been so absorbed in what they were doing for the last fifteen minutes or so – Victoria and Nick with the mantle, Jarrod with his law book, Audra with her picture book – that no one noticed Eugene had left the room.

Nick got up. "He probably got hungry. I'll go find him," he said and went out toward the kitchen.

Victoria sat down on the sofa beside her daughter. She looked up at the portrait of her husband over the fireplace and for a moment she prayed for the same miracle she knew Audra was praying for, but she knew it wasn't going to happen. She looked down into Audra's book, at the picture of the oxen.

"Well," Victoria said, "you know that animals will kneel at any time for no particular reason. Someone probably just noticed once that it was midnight on Christmas Eve when the oxen knelt down for the night, and the tradition was born."

Audra sighed and looked up at the portrait of her father. Victoria put her arm around her daughter and pulled her close. Jarrod noticed, closed his book and put it aside. He got up, came over behind his mother and sister at the sofa, and stood between them, putting an arm around each one. He looked up at the portrait of his father, too. He hadn't really lived here at the ranch full time for a couple years, spending a lot of time in San Francisco. When his father was killed, he changed his routine and spent more time here helping his mother with his youngest two siblings. And spending more time helping Nick with the business end of this ranch. They were keeping things going around here, but the holidays hurt them all this year. Christmas traditions and miracles had just lost their appeal.

Audra said, "I really don't even care about Christmas this year."

"I know you don't," Victoria said, "and I understand. But I don't think your father would want us to forget everything just because he isn't here."

Audra clamped her eyes closed. "I keep hoping and trying to pray hard enough that we might get a miracle this year."

"If you're praying that your father will come back to us, you know that can't be, Audra," Victoria said. "No amount of praying will make that happen."

"I thought God could do anything," Audra said. "I thought that Christmas brought miracles and God might bring us one." Her eyes got wet.

Victoria looked up at Jarrod for help. Jarrod shifted to put both arms around his little sister. "I know you miss him, sweetheart, but even God has rules he lives by."

Nick suddenly came back into the room. "I can't find that kid anywhere, and Silas says he hasn't seen him. Grab your coat, Jarrod. Let's go see if he's gone out to the stable or something."

Jarrod left with Nick in a hurry. Victoria didn't like the sound of the urgency in Nick's voice, but she tried not to worry. Audra noticed though, and now Audra was more concerned about her little brother than any lack of Christmas miracles. Victoria gave Audra a squeeze to comfort her.

"Maybe we ought to help them," Audra said.

"No, they're better off without us out there," Victoria said. "It's cold and the wind is picking up. They don't need us getting in their way. They'll find Gene in a few minutes."

"He wouldn't leave the house at this time of night," Audra said.

"No," Victoria said. Eugene was not a baby. He knew better than to leave the house without telling anyone. "Maybe he went up to the attic," Victoria suddenly thought.

Victoria got up, and Audra was right behind her. They both hurried all the way up into the attic – and sure enough, there was Eugene. He had gotten into a trunk up there and was pulling out things.

"Eugene, what are you doing?" Victoria asked. "We had no idea where you went."

"Just up here," Eugene said, and he turned to look at his mother and sister. He was wearing his father's hat.

Victoria had packed all of Tom Barkley's clothes away when he died and had Nick bring them up here. She didn't want the reminders around, but at the same time, she didn't want to get rid of those everyday things either. She wanted them where she could come get them again when she needed them, because she knew she was going to need them.

Audra got down on her knees beside her brother and picked up another piece of her father's clothing – an old shirt he used to wear around the house. It had a tear in a seam, and Audra suddenly laughed. "Look, Mother, remember this? You used to fuss at father whenever he put this on, and he would say 'It still has some good wear left in it!'"

Victoria laughed and got down on the floor with them. "Your father never could stand to give up a shirt he thought he had just gotten broken in."

"Can I keep his hat?" Eugene asked.

"Why not?" Victoria said.

And for what they thought were the next few minutes, they took items that had belonged to Tom Barkley out of the trunks they were packed in. Victoria told stories about the wallet she had bought for him when they were married, about the boots that he had worn out so completely before Audra and Eugene were even born that Victoria had to hide them and buy him new ones, about the belt he had worn when he was young and slim but wouldn't give up when it no longer fit him. They found the cuff links that were the very first gift Audra had given to him, for Christmas when she was eight years old. They found a rock – a plain old river rock about the size of a little boy's fist – that was the very first gift Eugene had given him that same Christmas.

"Mother!" Nick's bellow came up from downstairs and gradually moved closer. "Mother!"

Victoria realized Nick was coming upstairs. "We're in the attic!" she called.

Nick came up and stood exasperated at the door. "Jarrod and I have been out there in the cold and the dark for an hour looking for you, Eugene!"

"I'm sorry," Eugene said.

"I'm sorry, too," Victoria said. "We found him up here right after you went outside and we've just been reminiscing."

Still wearing his coat and hat, Nick came over to them and knelt down with them. "What are you doing?"

"Looking at souvenirs," Victoria said with a smile.

Audra handed Nick the cufflinks. "Remember these?"

Nick smiled. "You gave a pair to me and Jarrod that same Christmas."

Eugene proudly displayed his rock. "I gave you each a rock, too."

Nick chuckled. "That was one fine Christmas, as I recall. It even snowed a little."

Jarrod appeared at the door, but he arrived silently, without a bellow. He just stood there and watched and listened for a while. His family shared items and stories and he just reveled in listening and watching them all get a little of Tom Barkley back.

And then the clock downstairs chimed, twelve times.

"Oh, my goodness," Victoria said. "How did it get to be so late?"

"You were just enjoying yourselves," Jarrod said. They all looked and noticed he was standing there, leaning on the doorframe, smiling. Then he came over and knelt down behind Audra, rubbing her shoulders. "I'll bet you were enjoying yourselves so much you didn't even notice something."

"What?" Audra asked.

"Well, I don't know about the oxen," Jarrod said, "but it's twelve o'clock, Christmas Eve, and we're all on our knees."

They looked around at each other, and darned if they weren't all kneeling on that hard floor, so engrossed in the memories and the smiles they were sharing that they didn't even notice.

They laughed. "How about that?" Audra said and gave Jarrod a hug over her shoulder.

"Well, we'd better put all of these things away and get to bed," Victoria said and they repacked the items that had brought Tom Barkley there with them for a while.

"And now comes the hard part," Nick said.

"What's that?" Victoria asked.

Jarrod and Nick looked at each other, understanding, nodding. "We have to get up," they said together and struggled to standing.

They moaned and groaned for maximum effect, and Audra and Eugene laughed. Victoria's smile was warm and happy. _Christmas miracles still do happen_ , she thought.

And to prove it once and for all, she got up without any help.

The End

My very favorite Christmas poem, The Oxen by Thomas Hardy:

Christmas Eve and twelve of the clock.

"Now they are all on their knees,"

An elder said as we sat in a flock

By the embers in hearthside ease.

We pictured the meek, mild creatures where

They dwelt in their strawy pen,

Nor did it occur to one of us there

To doubt they were kneeling then.

So fair a fancy few would weave

In these years! Yet, I feel

If someone said on Christmas Eve,

"Come; see the oxen kneel,

"In the lonely barton by yonder coomb

Our childhood used to know,"

I should go with him in the gloom,

Hoping it might be so.


End file.
